The Mersey Daughter (Empire Street #3)(42)
They were in a small office in one of the buildings in the city centre that had managed to avoid being damaged by the blitz at the beginning of May. The smart black car had brought them here and Danny had gasped as they had gone through the familiar streets, many now almost unrecognisable. He hadn’t left Bootle since the raids and, even though he’d heard what the centre had suffered, it was still a shock to see it for himself. The cathedral had taken a hit and St Luke’s Church was all but a ruin. What made it worse was he still hadn’t been told what all this was about. He felt as if he was headed for his doom, with destruction all around him.
Then they had pulled up at a nondescript door, which gave no clues as to what was inside or what firm or organisation owned the premises. The officer had shown his ID to a guard inside the door – there was an air of secrecy to the whole procedure. Danny was shown to a seating area and told to await further instructions. It reminded him of being hauled before the headmaster, when you knew something bad was coming but the waiting made it worse. He paced around, too restless to sit on one of the worn old leather office chairs arranged around the walls. There were no notices on the walls to give a clue what this place was for. His earlier fears that Alfie Delaney was somehow behind this began to be replaced by something much worse.
Eventually, after he’d been kicking his heels for what felt like hours, a young woman in smart WAAF uniform approached. ‘Commander Stephens will see you now,’ she said, watching him calmly with her grey eyes, ‘so follow me.’
Danny did as he was told, still more puzzled by the young woman. She led him briskly down a series of bland corridors before knocking sharply on a plain brown door. ‘Mr Daniel Callaghan for you, sir.’ She pushed open the door and left him to face whatever was coming. By now he was fearful and curious in equal measure.
A man in naval officer’s uniform stood up and offered his hand for Danny to shake. ‘Mr Callaghan – Commander Stephens. Good of you to come.’ Danny was baffled. Good had nothing to do with it. He hadn’t exactly been given a choice.
‘You’ll no doubt be wondering what all this is about,’ Stephens went on, giving Danny a genial smile. ‘Sorry about all the subterfuge, but you’ll understand when I explain.’
Danny had to bite his lip to keep his temper. He could tell no good would come of losing it, but he was by now extremely fed up with how he was being treated. ‘I’d appreciate that,’ he said bluntly. ‘I don’t know why I’m here, but I’m not in the navy and so am not answerable to you. And that young woman was a WAAF. I’m not in the air force either. Not for want of trying,’ he concluded bitterly. If things had been different that could have been him in the smart dark uniform – although possibly without so much gold on his sleeves.
‘Excellent observation,’ Stephens said, his smile not faltering at the challenge. ‘So, yes, where you are now is rather unusual. As you have seen for yourself, it involves close co-operation between the air force and the navy, and the Royal Marines as well, as a matter of fact.’
Danny looked at the man’s face for any sign of a threat but found none. He decided he was telling the truth. In which case there was only one place he could be talking about. ‘You mean Western Approaches Command,’ he said. ‘That’s the only place I can think of where that happens. But we aren’t in Derby House now.’
Commander Stephens smiled even more. ‘Spot on, young man. No, we aren’t in Derby House, as everyone there has to have security clearance. But we’re sometimes allowed the use of some neighbouring offices.’ He sat back down. ‘Do have a seat and I’ll try to fill you in.’
Danny would have preferred to stand as he still felt too restless to keep still, but it would have been rude to refuse. Besides, he needed to hear what the commander had to say.
‘Let me be totally straight with you,’ the officer began. ‘We are looking to recruit people with very particular talents for our operation, and we have received word that you might be just the sort of person who would be suitable.’
Danny’s jaw would have hit the floor if he hadn’t been biting his lip so hard. Whatever he’d expected the man to say, it most definitely wasn’t that. ‘But,’ he finally managed to reply, ‘I can’t. I’ve applied to every one of the armed forces and been turned down by the lot. I’m useless for the war effort. I’ve got a damaged heart.’
‘We know all about that, Mr Callaghan,’ Commander Stephens said reassuringly. ‘It is most commendable that you tried so hard to join up. That’s one of the things that drew our attention to you. The other, believe it or not,’ he flicked at an invisible piece of lint on his sleeve, ‘is your heart condition.’
‘What?’ Danny blurted. This was getting ridiculous.
‘Or rather, your stay in hospital. The Royal Infirmary, wasn’t it?’ the man amended. ‘Where you met Captain Jonathan Forrester.’
Danny searched his memory and drew a blank. He and his fellow patients hadn’t exactly swapped ranks on the ward.
‘The man who introduced you to cryptic crosswords,’ the commander prompted.
Suddenly the pieces fell into place in Danny’s mind. ‘Yes, I know who you mean now. But I didn’t know he was a captain in the navy. We didn’t talk about such things. I knew he’d been a high-ranking officer of some kind, but that was as far as it got. I just called him Jonny.’